Unusual Suspects
by absoloutemadlad
Summary: It starts out as a regular poker night at the Wayne Mansion but things soon become a lot less predictable. (Contains multiple different POVs from members of the batfamily)
1. Chapter 1

"I see your brownie and raise you half a donut."

Dick, Tim, and Jason were seated around the dining room table in Wayne Manor, gambling over an assortment of Alfred's baked goods. Damian had chosen not to participate in the game, calling poker a "vulgar habit".

Jason raised his eyebrows at Dick impatiently. "Come on, Dick, in or out?" Dick peered at his cards intently. "Give me a sec…" He mused, wrinkling his forehead.

Tim, who had been drooling over the plate of warm sweets for the entire game, couldn't take it anymore. "Forget it. I quit." He threw his cards down in exasperation.

"You're supposed to say I fold," Jason corrected.

Tim sighed. "Can't we just eat already? You know, that thing _normal_ people do with food…?"

"Right now, it's our stakes," Dick pointed out absently, apparently still studying his cards. "If we eat now, we'll have nothing left to bet with. It can be food again when we're done."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yeah, _if_ we're ever done. Any day now, Grayson." Dick finally looked up. "In," he decided, breaking his donut in half and placing one piece onto the 'pot'. Then, he flipped his cards over: a pair of kings and a pair of eights. Jason stared at the cards for a second, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

"Nice try, Dick," he said slyly, revealing his own hand. Three sixes. "Crap," Dick cursed as Jason smugly collected his winnings. All of the sudden, Bruce Wayne walked in. "Is that poker?" He asked them, seeming vaguely interested.

Dick smiled sweetly. "Can I deal you in, Bruce?" Bruce ignored him and cleared his throat. "All of you, get suited up and meet me in the Cave as soon as possible." He left the room abruptly. The boys exchanged looks. "Well, that's the end of that," Jason sighed, sweeping the cards back into the box.

"Finally," Tim added, grabbing a cinnamon roll.

Dick was thoughtful. "I wonder what's going on? He seemed pissed."

"Well, he _is_ Batman," Tim shrugged, licking sugary frosting off his fingers. "He's always pissed. But if we aren't down there in the next 5 minutes he'll probably kick our asses."

 **A/N: Just clarifying, some of the details and characters might not be compatible the current comics. I'm kinda doing my own thing here. Please feel free to leave me any type of criticism, I really do appreciate it...Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Jason's POV_

I've never exactly loved when Bruce ordered me around (confession time: yeah, it's sort of a pride thing). But I had recently taken a temporary residence at Wayne Manor, and Bruce made it clear that as long as I was under his roof, I'd have to deal with his rules. Sometimes it kinda sucked ass but, _man_ , I had forgotten how good Alfred's breakfasts were.

When Dick, Tim and I met up in the Batcave, ready for action, it turned out that Batman wasn't the only one waiting for us. Along with him was Barbara (current Batgirl), Cassandra (Blackbat), Stephanie (Spoiler) and Damian (current Robin). At this point our whole crew was getting pretty confusing, especially since I hadn't been hanging out with them for very long.

"What's up, Bats?" I greeted the Dark Knight casually, sliding on my signature red helmet.

"Yeah, Batman," Spoiler added sarcastically, eyes glued to her phone (Knowing Steph, she was probably playing Fortnight as usual). "Mind telling us what was so important that you felt the need to drag us all over here?"

Batman looked slightly amused—in a brooding, Batman-y sort of way. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to finish your game first, Stephanie?"

Stephanie made a face and put her phone away, muttering, "And I just got to sixth place."

Batman focused his attention on the rest of us. "Last night in Gotham, a total of two nightclubs, two restaurants and one casino were robbed, all at very similar times."

Damian narrowed his eyes. "That doesn't strike me as a coincidence."

"It's probably not one," Batman agreed. "All the ransacked facilities happen to indirectly belong to Oswald Cobblepot, the crime boss also known as the Penguin."

Yeah, Bruce. Like we of all people need a refresher on who Cobblepot is.

"Most evidence suggests that a rival crime boss, Salvatore Maroni, organized the attacks," Batman explained. "I have information that suggests Cobblepot will be sending some of his men to raid one of Maroni's bases tonight. If this gets out of control, a citywide gang war could erupt."

Barbara cringed visibly, probably thinking about how much turmoil her hometown, Burnside, had suffered during a gang war that occurred there a few months ago.

Batman went on. "Spoiler and Blackbat will be apprehending those men."

Stephanie and Cass seemed satisfied with their job, shooting competitive grins at each other.

"Robin and I will give Cobblepot a visit," Batman continued, "While Batgirl and Nightwing are going to handle talking to Maroni. Red Robin, you're on monitor duty around Gotham tonight. Any questions?"

"Uh, yeah, actually," I frowned, crossing my arms. "Am I just free to do my own thing tonight, or what?"

"I'll have a word with you in a minute, Jason." Batman acknowledged briskly. "Everyone else, get going."

"Aye, Captain," Dick mock-saluted as they left, triggering chuckles and smirks from everyone else.

Batman turned to his massive computer screen mounted on the wall and tapped the keyboard. A few pictures popped up of a muscular Hispanic woman, probably in her late 30's, with a mop of curly black hair. She was wearing a heavily armored bodysuit with an arsenal of professional-grade weapons strapped to her belt.

"This," Batman explained, "is Reyna Navarro, aka Blindshot, an assassin who has just recently escaped Belle Reve Penitentiary—for the second time in her career."

I raised an eyebrow. Belle Reve was a top notch prison. "Oh, so she's a sly one, is she?"

Batman crossed his arms. "There have been multiple sightings of her around Gotham over the past 2 days. Her intents are still unknown. I need you to—"

"Stop her before she kills someone," I finished. "Ok, I got it."

"I'm not done yet. Jason…you might not be the only one after her."

"And...by that you mean...?"

Batman shook his head. "I don't…know…exactly. I haven't had time to look into this very much. Just stay on high alert at all times. And—one more thing?" He narrowed his eyes. "Reyna is to stay alive. Any injuries need to be kept to a minimum. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," I rolled my eyes. "See ya, Bats."

Bruce just sighed.

I've never found it difficult to navigate my way around Gotham. It's a big city, but it had always been my home and I knew every inch of it like the back of my hand. This tended to serve as a vital advantage for me whenever I was trying to find certain people. I knew from experience that most assassins (not including the few crazy-rich ones) could usually be found at a certain bar called Dark Horse Pub, located in the East End.

Dark Horse was essentially just a cramped room full of drunk, armed, and incredibly dangerous assassins. No policeman I've ever met would dare set foot near the place. Hell, even some super-villains were scared of Dark Horse. I discreetly scanned the interior of the building via a broken window in the back.

No sign of that Blindshot lady.

But I wasn't done here yet. I selected two of my biggest and scariest-looking guns and kicked the rickety, wooden front door right off the hinges. The loud talking and general shuffling and clanging came to an abrupt halt as everyone in the room turned to stare at me.

I pointed my guns around the room. "Any of you lovely folks know where I can find Reyna Navarro?"

All of them narrowed their eyebrows at me in a creepy unison. I knew that every single one of them would have loved to shoot me on the spot, but it was too risky since I already had my guns drawn. Plus, I did have a sort of… _reputation_ with these types of people.

"Look, you skinflints," I said darkly, looking around the room, "If I don't get the information I came for, I'm blowing you all to bits. Get the message?"

After another uncomfortable pause, a heavily tattooed man sitting in the corner spoke up. "You talking about the Blindshot?"

He had a gritty and menacing voice. And I consider myself to be a pretty good judge of all things gritty and menacing.

I wheeled on him. "You know her?"

He took a swig from his grimy beer mug, keeping his eyes glued on me, before answering. "Yeah, we've met a couple times. She just got hired to waste _the_ Amanda Waller. Staying at Copeland Inn, room 17." Something clicked in my brain. Amanda Waller, the head administrator of Belle Reve (among various other things), had arrived in Gotham just last week for a tour of Arkham Asylum.

"How do you know all that?" I challenged him. "And why are you telling me?"

The guy just smirked. "Word gets around, chump. Plus, I never liked Reyna much, anyways. Steals business."

Both his reasons sounded legit, and after quickly studying his face, I he didn't seem to be lying. I nodded slowly. "Lucky for the rest of you, your friend here was feeling talkative. I'm letting you all live. But I guarantee this won't be the last time you see me. And next time, you might not be so lucky." I took the chance to make an exit.

I definitely would have enjoyed taking down all of those scumbags that night, but my main priority was capturing that assassin.

Copeland Inn was barely a block away from Dark Horse. I managed to get in through a defunct fire exit with my (ahem) _expert_ lock-picking skills. Thankfully, the old building was pretty much empty, as usual. I was free to roam through the hallways unnoticed until I found room 17.

The door was hanging slightly open, so I took a deep breath, got my guns out and entered slowly. I soon found that the room was completely unoccupied. I figured that drunk bonehead from the bar had given me a crappy lead, but just in case, I snooped around a little bit.

I was in the middle of searching the bathroom when I heard a quiet creaking noise. I looked up, but it was too late. Perched on the windowsill was the woman I immediately recognized as Reyna Navarro. She held a jet black Mk23, and it was aimed directly at my chest.

 _Shit._

 **A/N: What are your thoughts on Blindshot, my OC? Constructive criticism is always welcome. Sorry about the messy paragraphs.**


End file.
